What's the story, Mr. BlueDid she pull the rug from under youDid she chop your dreams up two by twoAnd kick them out the doorI could sympathize you, sonBut pity words stick to my tongueAnd sorry words have all been sungSo many times before

Hang on one more day or twoThen I promise I'll be laying youOdds that she's found someone newWhile you stand around and rustShe don't need no part-time manWith no part-time answer, understandShe don't want an hour's fall of sandFor a lifetime full of dust

Mr. Blue, you missed the shotDidn't turn out quite the way you thoughtIt would, I'll bet, cause you got caughtOut playing Donald JuanShe's got polish, she's got classAnd someday when on the street you pass her houseYou'll wonder why the grassLooks greener on her lawn